A Change in Senerey
by Fatcat91
Summary: Some days it does not pay to wake up. Kieran Collins wakes up in a room that's not his to a place that is not his. Now he has to try to get home while playing the part as the Boy Who Lives.


This is my first Harry Potter fanfic so please review/rate.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did Harry would have never ended up with Ginny and the epilogue would have never existed. That right to own Harry belongs to J. K. Rowling and J. K. Rowling alone.

Rating: I put it on T to be safe.

I hope you enjoy.

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><p>The boy awoke to the sounds of a car alarm in the early hours of the morning. He was startled by the sound and flung his covers back as he reached to the side of his bed as if searching for something. He uttered a curse as he fell to the floor. What ever he was looking for was forgotten as he pushed himself off the floor. For a while the boy looked around the room in bewilderment. It was almost like he had never been in the room before. He sat there in the middle of the room panting and staring as the light of the moon filtered through the barred window. He seemed to calm himself and got up from his position from the floor and staggered to the door behind him. He rattled the handle and groaned when he found it locked.<p>

"Of course it would be locked," the boy grumbled. With a scowl the boy decided to inspect the room more closely. He flicked a light switch that was by the door and flinched when light blossomed in the room. The room itself was plain consisting of white washed walls and hardwood floor. The furniture in the room was either old, broken or dented. The bookshelf was full of dusty books and broken toys. The closet had one of the doors hanging off of its hinges with dirty or torn clothes inside. The boy inspected the clothes and realized that they were several sizes too big for the clothes to be his. There was also a small desk along with a chair. Both had seen better days. In the corner of the room stood a cage, which the boy was pretty sure once contained some sort of bird. The boy found it odd that there was no mirror in the room. Not on the back of the door, not in the closet, there just was no mirror in the room. He was pacing the length of the room when a soft hoot was heard from the barred window. Curious the boy went to the window and opened it as much as he could. In a tree opposite his window sat a snowy white owl with golden eyes.

"Hey there beautiful. Do you live here?" the boy asked the owl. The owl hooted at the boy with disdain as if it knew that he was an intruder.

"Hey don't be like that. I don't want to be here either," the boy said. It suddenly struck him that he was talking to an owl. "I must be crazy to talk to a bird," the boy thought aloud. He was startled by the angry hoot the owl made.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm not used to talking to an animal," the boy apologized. The owl just ruffled its feathers.

"So are you going to come in?" the boy asked. There was a soft click of the tongue before the owl took off and flew in to the room. It flew strait to the perch and took a long drink of water before turning and staring at the boy.

"So . . . are you a boy or a girl?" the boy said as the owl stared at him unblinking. The boy tried to stare back but failed.

"Would you believe me if I said that I have no idea how I got here?" the boy asked. The owl squawked with annoyance and ruffled its feathers. "It's the truth though." The bird made a clicking sound with its tongue and turned its head away from the boy.

"Fine. Be that way," the boy huffed with annoyance. "Stupid bird." There was another squawk of indignation. The boy was positive that if the owl could talk it would have been saying the words of "I have never been so insulted." The boy examined the owl before he realized that there was a note tied to its leg. Cautiously the boy inched closer to the bird, while the bird was distracted by its food, and tried to take the letter. The boy had hardly touched the leg of the owl before it hooted loudly and flapped its rather big wings. The boy startled and jumped away from the white owl.

"Oh come on! I need to know who I am supposed to be. How am I supposed to act like this guy when I have no idea who he even is. Please help," the boy pleaded. The bird stared at him as if trying to figure out if he was lying or not. Apparently the owl believed him. It stuck out its leg with the letter attached to it. Using caution the boy untied the letter from the owl and opened it up. It read:

Harry,

Hey mate, guess what? My dad got us tickets to see the Quidditch World Cup, if you want to come write back. How are those muggles treating you? Getting enough food right? Oh yeah thanks for letting me use Hedwig to write Hermione. She's dead useful, she is. Pig should be there sometime tomorrow you can send a reply with him.

See you,

Ron

The boy read and reread the letter trying to piece together the identity he had stolen.

"What the hell is Quidditch and muggles?" the boy thought aloud. The owl hooted bringing the boy's attention back to it. "So you are a girl and named Hedwig." The owl hooted with contentment, pleased that the stranger finally understood.

"Looks like I got my work cut out for me, eh Hedwig?" the boy said. The boy looked around the room again when he noticed some wear on a floorboard. It was as if it had been moved and replaced in to its spot several times. Curious the boy got to his hands and knees and lifted the board. Inside was a mass of letters, some stale but edible food, a soft silvery material and a stick. The boy lifted the stick to examine it more closely. When it was under the full strength of the bedroom light, the boy dropped the stick as if it had burned him.

"That—that's a wand! Harry—Harry is a Magical. Oh god . . . I'm a Magical," the boy gasped out. He stared in horror at the stick. The owl cooed softly as if trying to say to the boy that everything would be fine. The boy's only response was the repeating of the phrase "I'm a Magical." Hedwig hooted again gaining the boys panicked attention.

"I guess I know why they locked him up. Not that I blame them," the boy said miserably, "They have a Magical as a son!" Hedwig hooted angrily at the boy and pecked at his hand.

"Oww! Why would you do that? Harry is a Magical, that means he and all of his friends are evil! Magicals will stop at nothing to enslave everyone else. Oh god . . . I'm one of them." Hedwig gave another nip at the boy's hand.

"Would you stop that," the boy hissed. The owl merely clucked at him as if chastising him. "I suppose you think that Harry is a good boy, that he would never hurt anyone." Hedwig simply stared at him with her golden eyes.

"Well you're wrong. I know what everyone else had to go through when the Magicals attacked. I know what people did to survive. I know what it was like being in a Magicals care," the boy growled. Hedwig just hooted sadly before turning away from the boy. The boy glared at the bird before he quickly shoved the stick and letter under the floorboard. He stood up from the floor and went to the door to flip off the lights. Then the room fell back in to darkness. Using the light of the setting moon, the boy climbed back in to his bed and tried to forget about the stick underneath the floorboard. He tried to forget about the owl and the letter. He tried to forget that he was now impersonating a Magical. He tried to forget that when the sun rose he would have to face everything that he was trying to forget. Before he drifted back in to slumber the last thought he had was _Kieran what have you gotten yourself in to now?  
><em>

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><p>I hope you enjoyed the chapter<p>

Keep on reading

Fatcat


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